


Elaine's Lucid Dream

by Petricor75



Series: Political Bitches [4]
Category: Political Animals
Genre: Dream Sex, F/F, Falling In Love, Introspection, Lucid Dreaming, Masturbation, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28716942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petricor75/pseuds/Petricor75
Summary: After their flight back from Arizona, Elaine leaves Susan at her home. Something happened between the two during that flight, and Elaine suggested they just pretend never happened. But it clearly doesn't work and now Susan is still silent and she's struggling in her brooding. Then she has a dream, and she realizes it's a dream while it's still happening.
Relationships: Elaine Barrish/Susan Berg
Series: Political Bitches [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066784
Kudos: 22
Collections: AU Political Animals





	Elaine's Lucid Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Il Sogno Lucido di Elaine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422362) by [Petricor75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petricor75/pseuds/Petricor75). 



> Someone once playfully asked me to write a spin-off about Agent Clark, after reading the fanfiction which is linked to this one. After few years I took the challenge.

Clark nervously taps his fingers on the steering wheel, his eyes alert to the road and traffic, as usual. Next to him, a bow-headed Elaine Barrish, focused on the document in her hand, glasses on the tip of her nose. He's driving her home; that's all he's done the last two days, White House, residence, and vice versa. He peers at her out of the corner of his eye.

She's been quieter than usual lately, and he has a pretty good idea why. It's not like he should ever care, in fact, part of his job is to be discreet, yet he can't help but relate it to Susan Berg's absence. Since their flight back from Arizona, Barrish has never asked him to bring her over, okay, it's only been a couple of days, but he knows something in their dynamic has changed. No, changed is not the correct term. Regressed, cooled, more like.

When he thinks back to the heavy vibe in that same car on the night he drove them home from the airport, he is getting out of breath! And he can't help but wonder what the hell happened on that flight from Tucson to DC. It's really none of his business, but boy, did he like them together! He liked Elaine more with Susan Berg.

\- _Stop it Clark! None of your fucking business! Cut it out and drive! That's what they pay you for! Not to ship (is that what they say?) your boss and her journalist friend! -_

_———————————————_

Elaine Barrish looks away from the city lights and thinks that she wishes she could banish her own intrusive thoughts just as easily. She steps away from the large window slipping off her robe and tossing it absentmindedly at the foot of the bed. With a weary, heavy sigh she lies down under the covers, crossing her arms over her head and lets herself be mesmerized by the chalk decorations adorning the ceiling.

All the time since she left her in front of her house nights before, she has the feeling that she said or did something that caused her to... she doesn't even know how to interpret that distancing, she just knows that it scares her. It worries her, even though during the day she forces to tell herself, as she repeated to her that night, that neither of them did anything wrong or irreparable. She doesn't understand why the young woman felt the need to retreat into her shell. She turns in the direction of the nightstand with the intent to read, but instead of the book neatly lined up on the edge, her gaze lands on the scarf.

The light colored peach scarf Susan forgot in the car that night. She stretches out an arm, puts her hand on it to feel its velvety texture, her fingers tighten on it, drawing a rose of folds. She brings the garment to her face and inhales deeply, the scent of her hits her, a lump of restlessness forms at the pit of her stomach. She turns to the side, taking the bundle with her friend's perfume in the hollow of her neck, turns off the light and closes her eyes, more than sure that she will never be able to fall asleep.

_———————————————_

She opens her eyes with a sense of unease in her stomach, the multicolored lights outside the window flicker fast, she looks at the inside of the car, Susan is sitting next to her, on the opposite side of the seat, she is intent on following the road as if it were of vital importance. She can smell her scent, she has the feeling that she has already lived this moment, _\- I'm having a deja vù -_ , she thinks to say, but no sound comes out of her mouth.

She looks at Clark, silent as ever in the driver's seat. She scans the road ahead of the moving car. She recognizes the route, and every time she thinks the driver will turn in one direction rather than another, that's exactly what happens. She tries to reverse her thoughts, but it doesn't work; Clark keeps driving toward he needs to drive them, toward Susan Berg's house.

She turns toward her, but she is distant, absorbed in the sight of the city whizzing by outside. Between them, the abandoned scarf lies crumpled regardless. _\- It's the night we got back from the airport! -_ , she finally realizes.

She remembers falling asleep hugging that scarf, _\- So this would be some kind of dream? -_ she asks herself. She goes over with her memory the events that should happen soon, Clark will pull the car over, he will get out to unload Susan's luggage, she will take her hand asking once again if everything is ok, Susan will tell her not to worry and she will let her go. _\- I shouldn't have let her go -_ , she thinks with regret.

She remembers that when she was a child she often became aware that she was dreaming, sometimes she could even control her actions and dream events. As she grew up, the lucid dreams gradually thinned out and now she doesn't remember when the last time she had such an experience was.

Aware that her time is running out as they get closer to their destination, she tries to concentrate, attempting to move one hand to reach her friend's. But this one remains motionless in her lap, sweating, palm to palm with the other one that belongs to her. Without thinking too much about doing so, she wipes them both on her coat, just as Clark stops the car. _\- So that’s how it works! -_ , she exults to herself.

In spite of what she knows has actually happened, she turns to the reporter, intent on lacing her bag over her shoulder, her fingers already on the door handle. "I'll walk you inside", she says in a trembling voice. She feels her heart in her throat when Susan replies that it is not necessary in a hasty voice.

She stretches an arm and gently grabs her wrist as she tries to get off, waits for the young woman to turn around and look at her. "I know it's not necessary, but I'd still rather walk you in, Sue. Will you allow me to do that? May I?", she meekly insists, praying for a yes. "Of course you can", the younger finally whispers as affectionately as she is used to talking to her.

Without having any clue how they ended up there, she finds herself in the apartment lobby, watching Susan put the keys back in their spot, avoiding meeting her gaze. Elaine closes the door behind her and the room suddenly plunges into semi-darkness. Before the other woman moves out of her reach, she stretches out a hand to gently take hers and moves a step toward her.

She would like to beg Susan to assure her that everything is okay, but she doubts it would work, this is her dream, right? It can only reflect what she herself thinks, right? Obviously something is wrong, pointless to hope otherwise. Pointless to pretend nothing has happened. She tenderly looks at her from top to bottom, letting the young woman keep avoiding eye contact.

"You didn't kiss me to distract me, did you Sue?", a choked snort, a smiling grimace, eyes wandering everywhere but hers. Her hand escapes her grasp to scratch an eyebrow, a gesture of embarrassment, the movement stirring her scent that comes faintly to her nostrils, a deep breath, another step, even closer.

Elaine reaches for both of her hands this time, "I've put you in the position of keeping something from me, once again, haven't I?", she tries to escape the contact again, but this time Elaine doesn't allow it, albeit gently. "I shouldn't have asked you to pretend like nothing happened" she admits in a whisper.

On the other side there is only deafening silence, and the faint reflection of two downcast eyes. Elaine lets her go, but only to cup Susan's face with both her hands, watches her eyes close for a long moment, and then, finally, they are locked in hers.

"What do you think would have happened if we had really been together that morning at the Horseshoe?", she asks softly without expecting an answer. Now that she's so close there's not only her scent that pleasantly invades her nostrils, the contact with her body almost makes her dizzy, the warm breath on her face makes her want to shorten the distance even more.

For a fraction of a second she freezes, surprised by her own gestures, reactions, desires, indecisive, fearful, _\- What the hell, this is my dream and I'll do whatever I want with it! -_ she closes her eyes and zeroes the space between them, kissing her for a long time, with tenderness, feeling Susan's emotion in the quivering of her slender body, while half-closing her lips she searches for her tongue and with an arm she wraps her back to press their bodies against each other.

For a moment she fears the young woman is crying, noticing something salty in her taste, she pauses the outpouring to look at her, to understand what's going on, but Susan is far from in pain, and no tears line her delicate face, _\- it is just the memory of what happened on the plane -_ , and when she kisses her again, the saline hint is completely gone.

Delicate arms creep under her overcoat, crumpling the blouse she is wearing in an attempt to increase contact. Overcome with desire, with an almost angry gesture she shakes off her coat, abandoning it to the ground and forgetting about it instantly.

Leaving a trail of clothing behind them, their attentions to each other intensify as together they urgently make their way to a bedroom that Elaine has seen perhaps once or twice, but of which she cares little if it is really as she remembers it. The important thing is that the young woman is dragging her with her on the soft sheets, she feels the tips of her fingers tracing fanciful squiggles on her back and the action causes a shiver of pleasure that invades her completely, while her body lies on that of the younger one.

The feeling of the contact with her warm skin is so overpowering that she can't help but gently clamp her teeth on her lower lip in a bite of passion, while an almost instinctive movement of her pelvis presses against Susan's.

A simultaneous moan leaks out between their sighs, enraptured by the arousal that quickly mounts, the cadenced movements of their bodies following the rhythm of the multiplying passionate kisses.

The urge to feel her even more intimately drives Elaine's hand up Susan's hips, it tightens on her flesh, then finds the texture of her briefs, the need to feel her warmth and arousal between her fingers completely overwhelms her.

A dull noise disturbs them, Elaine ignores it, insinuating a hand between Susan's legs as she briefly breaks the kiss, "It's nothing, love, just leave it", but she soon realizes the other hasn't been paying attention to anything and goes back to searching for her lips.

More thuds, deafening, this time Barrish can't seem to overlook them and jumps up angrily, "Damn it Clark, what the fuck do you want?"

_———————————————_

Barrish opens her eyes wide, annoyed by the bright light filtering through the curtains. She finds herself lying on her stomach in an awkward posture, her face half pressed to the pillow and half to Susan's scarf. _\- Fuck! -_ , she curses to herself before realizing what snatched her from her dream.

"You’d better hurry up, Clark is already downstairs, waiting for you!", Margaret's voice scolds her on the other side of the door. "Then tell him to wait!", she replies still angry at the unsuspecting driver for interrupting her dream experience. _\- I was so close! -_ , she thinks with regret as the door swings open. "What the heck are you still doing in bed?", the elderly woman asks surprised.

"Have him sit down and offer him a cup of coffee while I get ready, will you?", Elaine proposes, turning her back sullenly. Grandma Barrish notices with amazement Susan Berg's scarf crumpled on the pillow and just can't help herself, "Oh, dear, you're pathetic! Grow a pair! And call her! You had a fight, so what? It happens in the best families, didn't you know that?"

As soon as her mother closes the door leaving her to her privacy, the secretary covers her face with both hands, thinking back to the experience she just had in her dream. She still feels the persistent heat and arousal between her legs, she turns her face towards the pillow, looking for the scent on the scarf, it is fading, but it is still vaguely perceptible, _\- I was so close... -_ , she touches the scented fabric with her fingertips and a thought strokes her imagination.

After all, it wouldn't be the first time that she has resorted to this expedient, from time to time, _\- Yes, but usually you just concentrate on yourself, you don't use fantasies that imply the presence of a certain other... SHUT UP! -_ , inhales deeply, searching for the delicate fragrance of the dream.

After all, it's a healthy practice, also for pelvic floor training, _\- Yes, of course, Elaine, of course... for pelvic floor training... -_ , she chases the intruding voice from her mind, with her eyes closed she goes back to the sensations she felt just before, she retraces the plot she experienced since they entered the apartment, she relives the words, the kisses, the caresses, the experience of her naked skin in contact with Susan's, her own weight pressing on her body.

Her hand moves between her legs and she feels the stickiness that that dream has left on her, _\- I was so close -_ , she regrets for the umpteenth time touching herself, under her eyelids Susan's face is so tangible that she can still feel her warmth, she remembers the touch of her tongue between her lips, she imagines that it is susan's fingers that are caressing her and in a few, delicate strokes, she finds herself gasping for air, caught in the jolts of pleasure.

Slowly, she regains the natural rhythm of her breathing. "God... I'm completely fucked up!", she exclaims, unable to hold back a hysterical laugh.

_———————————————_

That same morning, in the oval room of the presidential palace, Elaine tries in vain to focus on her work; the tri-fold printed bureaucracy in front of her, fortunately, is far from urgent. She occasionally lets various functionaries come in for a quick consultation. When she realizes there's no way to make that day worthwhile, she convinces herself it's time to put her work aside and focus seriously on what fills her thoughts.

\- _Is it possible that Sue kissed me because she has feelings for me? -,_ she asks herself, with a touch of shame for her own presumption. She thinks back to the countless affectionate gestures of her friend, more and more frequent, _\- Very possible -,_ she admits, pushing away the shame that again peeps out in her mind. _\- Possible that she left me to my conclusions without telling me what the truth was? -,_ this dilemma leaves her perplexed, _\- For fear of losing me, perhaps? -,_ she is surprised to feel a motion of offense at this possibility. _\- Or maybe, because she wouldn't want to interfere with me by declaring herself, when I'm not ready yet? -,_ she likes this hypothesis better, because she knows very well that she is not ready.

Neither ready, nor organized, to make the commitment that the admission of certain feelings necessarily her morals would imply. _\- I can't go to her and take her in my arms and… then I would be influencing her, keeping her tied to me with expectations that I don't know if and when... -_ , it's not just about the two of them, it's also about the side dish, too much meat on the fire, not good, you risk burning everything. _\- Am I going to go somewhere? -_ , she asks herself, considering the idea of not rushing things. One thing, however, does need to be rushed, as she came to a conclusion in the dream.

By suggesting to her that they pretend that nothing had happened, she did nothing but put her in a position to omit the truth, and after months of subterfuges brilliantly overcome by the desire for mutual honesty, and that one thing that remained forgotten in the decor of the plane, until the day of that flight, Elaine can only imagine what it meant for the journalist, let that assumption be taken for granted, let her believe it so as not to affect her.

She is already affected enough. _\- What if right now I am assuming something that does not correspond to reality at all? -_ , she bravely challenges herself, _\- It doesn't matter, I'm prepared to risk misunderstanding everything, but she deserves to feel free to say what she needs to say, whatever it is. Facts don't change just because we choose to ignore them, I should have learned that, after so many years. I'm not going anywhere, no matter what. -_

She picks up the phone handset and presses the key corresponding to the speed dial number she has been connected to, since she accepted the rank of Secretary of State.

_———————————————_

The call from Barrish surprises him a little, she is used to staying at the White House much longer, Clark suspects that she is not feeling well, since in the morning he had to wait for her for almost an hour, in the company of her mother. A good woman, to be sure, but she didn't stop talking for a moment, so much so that when finally her boss appeared in the hall where the old woman was entertaining him over a now cold cup of coffee, he couldn't help but exhale a resounding sigh of relief.

The woman sits down next to him just as he starts the engine. "Are you not feeling well, Madam Secretary?", he asks her after a short while in a respectful tone. "No Clark, I'm fine, but thanks for asking, you're always so thoughtful", the woman replies showing a loving smile. "No, it's just... you know... you were late this morning, and you're never late…", he justifies himself marveling at seeing her blush at such a trivial compliment. "Can I bother you again, in a couple of hours, Clark?", Barrish asks politely as the man turns into the driveway.

"Oh, no bother at all, Madam Secretary, I'm just sorry I have to take you back to the House, I assumed you were done for the day", the young man retorts not at all annoyed. "Well, no, actually I was wondering if you could find me the best ice cream in DC."

"Are we going to Miss Berg's?", his response comes so spontaneous that he couldn't stop before he spat it out looking at her with a questioning and enthusiastic smile. If it wasn't for the dark color of his skin he would be red as a bell pepper right now. Recomposing himself and rummaging through the confusion of embarrassment words of apology, he hears the amused and warm laugh from his boss and realizes there is no need to apologize. "Yes Clark, we are going to Miss Berg!"

**Author's Note:**

> Political Animals and its characters do not belong to me.  
> This work is written without any profit.


End file.
